


For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: Something Beautiful [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel True Forms, Angel True Voice, Angel Wings, Castiel Speaks Enochian, Castiel learned to speak English, Demons being dicks, F/M, M/M, Multi, Multiple Soulmates, Normal Rules Don't Apply To Angels, Other, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Dreams, still no wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: By the time Sam Winchester managed to escape to Stanford on a full ride scholarship and had his own soulmate dream, Jimmy was already married to Amelia, and Sam refused to take Jimmy away from his wife and baby daughter to deal with a soulmate with more issues than a news stand. Especially since he was also seeing his older brother, Dean, and a strangely silent glowing form with wings of kaleidoscopic light and glowing blue eyes that couldn't possibly be human.





	1. Look How They Shine For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts).



> At last, the fic you've all been waiting for! Sam finds out his soulmate situation is more complicated than he could have guessed, and that's only the tip of the iceberg!

**S** AM WINCHESTER HAD never expected to celebrate his eighteenth birthday alone. He had managed to make a few friends at Stanford, even something approaching a best friend in his dorm mate Tyson Brady, so there was no real reason for him to be alone except for the fact that none of them were the one person he really wanted to celebrate with. But Dean was somewhere else, probably halfway across the country with their Dad, and since Sam hadn't bothered to tell any of his friends when his birthday was no one thought anything of it when he made excuses to turn in early the night of May first. He took the precaution of emailing his professors for Wednesday's lectures to let them know that he might be absent, brushed his teeth and washed his face, changed into actual pajamas, and then stared at the narrow dorm bed until he realized he was stalling and made himself get under the covers.

He was asleep almost before he realized that he'd closed his eyes.

The first thing he became aware of was the sound of Dean softly singing "Hey Jude" the way he used to do when Sam had trouble sleeping as a child, before his voice broke and took away his ability to carry a tune without a hell-bound handbasket. For a moment he thought he'd somehow missed dreaming all together and Dean had broken into his dorm room to surprise him for his birthday. Opening his eyes, however, made him revise that assumption as, criminal and slightly creepy as it was to break into Sam's dorm, there was no way Dean could have kidnapped him to Blue Earth, Minnesota, from Palo Alto, California, without waking him. Pastor Jim's church looked very much like the last time he remembered seeing it, if perhaps a bit cleaner than the man himself usually managed to make it. What surprised him, though, was the number of people waiting for him.

Dean was a given, after having heard him singing earlier. His big brother was kicked back in one of the front pews, all casual irreverence for the fact that he was in a church. There was a bit of nostalgia in his expression as he looked up at the church ceiling the way Sam had seen him do a hundred times, but for the most part he looked... bored.

Not his place-image, then, Sam guessed, and glanced towards the other two figures. One of them was a man he'd never seen before who looked several years older than Sam himself, seated on the opposite side of the church from Dean in the front pew. He was looking up at the other figure, who was....

Sam felt his gut or whatever passed for it in a dream clench in uncertainty, because there was no way that the third figure qualified as human. It was humanoid, yes, but normal humans didn't glow a nearly eye-searing white and had discernable features instead of what looked like seven softly swirling orbs of iridescent blue. And that didn't even touch on what looked like  _ wings _ extending from the figure's back in a kaleidoscopic swirl of shimmering shards of color. It was like looking directly at the sun through a piece of glass that used to be a stained glass window before it was broken apart and the fragments melted back together haphazardly, chaotic and clearly changed from what it had been, but still unbelievably bright and beautiful.

"Well, that's a new one," he said blankly, almost unthinkingly.

The result was instant. Dean stopped singing and sat up to grin at him with a cheerful "Hey, Sammy!" like the last time he'd seen him hadn't been when their father told Sam if he left he shouldn't plan on coming back.

On the other side, the unknown man turned his head to look and broke out into a relieved smile that made him seem younger than he probably was. "Sam! I'm glad to see you!" He faltered, backtracking a bit. "I mean, I'm glad you can see me. I mean, you could see me in my dream, but... you can see me, right?"

"Uh," Sam blinked, then nodded cautiously, looking from Dean to the man to the glowing figure. "Yeah, I can see all three of you." At the almost comically matching startled looks he got from the two humans, he added a little weakly, "You can't see each other?"

"Only one I can see is you, dude," Dean said apologetically, while the man started to nod, then grimaced and lifted one hand to waggle from side to side.

"I can see you and them," he said, pointing towards the glowing figure, who seemed to straighten at the acknowledgement. "I can't see whoever you're looking at over there, though, sorry."

"Okay," Sam said faintly, then looked up at the glowing figure, trying to wrestle down his trepidation. "And... you can see me, too?" The swirling blue eyes seemed to widen, then blink closed and open again in a random order before the part that seemed to be their head dipped in something close to a nod, the wings fanning open and tilting slightly so that the tips were extended towards him.

_ "Yes, Sam Winchester," _ a voice like quiet thunder and chimes in the wind whispered through the church from seemingly everywhere and nowhere.  _ "I can see you." _


	2. And All The Things You Do

**F** OR A MOMENT Sam thought that his eardrums must have ruptured from the power behind that voice and he just stared up at the glowing being. Then he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder turning him and he looked to see his brother giving him a worried look.

"You okay, Sammy? I don't know what they just said to you, but you look freaked the fuck out, man," he said, eyes darting towards the space where Sam's other two soulmates stood though he clearly couldn't focus on them.

"Oh, so now you decide to speak up?" the other man was saying, looking up at the glowing figure with wide, slightly shocked eyes. "You didn't say anything I could understand in  _ my _ dream!"

_ "I apologize, Jimmy Novak," _ the voice intoned, the figure dipping their head as their wings almost seemed to droop very slightly.  _ "As young Sam surmised then, I had not practiced speaking in any language but my own for many centuries, and I feared that my true voice would damage you." _

"Sammy?" Dean repeated again, shaking him a little.

"Okay, this is going to get confusing," Sam spoke up, shaking himself a bit and filing away the name that the figure had called the other man. Looking back and forth between Dean and Jimmy, he added, "Obviously I need to talk with all of you, but you can't all see each other so it's kinda hard to follow when you talk over each other by accident."

"Oh, yeah, I can see how that would be awkward," Jimmy said a bit sheepishly, at the same time that Dean said, "Shit, I didn't think of that, sorry." The glowing figure seemed to look from Jimmy to Dean and back, wings quivering very slightly in what Sam thought must be amusement. So the being could see Dean even though Dean couldn't see him, huh? Interesting.

_ "Perhaps we should take turns?" _ came the diplomatic suggestion.  _ "Jimmy and I can wait while you speak with Dean, and then the three of us may speak at greater length." _

"That sounds good, thank you," Sam agreed with some relief.

"Okay, we'll just... wait here, then," Jimmy said and moved to sit down on the pew, beckoning the glowing figure closer. The figure hesitated, then drifted closer and mimicked Jimmy, crouching down near the pew as they were far too big to sit on the bench. "So, what's your name, anyway?"

_ "I am Castiel," _ the voice murmured, somehow sounding quieter despite the way it rolled through Sam. Shaking himself a little, he turned to Dean and tugged him over towards the farther wall before he faced his brother again.

"You know, this is the same place we met up in my dream," Dean broke the silence, gesturing around them. "Kinda figured you'd have us in a library or someplace like that, but I guess Pastor Jim had more of an influence on the both of us than a library would'a had on me."

"So.... is this why you weren't surprised by the pie four years ago?" he asked, a bit at a loss. "I let it slip in your dream and you came home early so you wouldn't miss it?"

"Well, the pie was a nice touch," Dean conceded with a nod, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Was gonna try and get Dad to let us come home right away no matter what happened after we wrapped up that case so quickly. Dreaming about your scrawny ass didn't change that." A moment later, he blanched. "No, not like.... I didn't mean...!"

"You're not actually after my ass, then?" Sam drawled, raising both eyebrows at his flustered brother.

"Ugh, dude, no!" Dean made a face. "You're my little brother! That's just.... No." He shook his head vigorously as if to clear the images and gave Sam a serious look. "I told you in my dream, but I'm telling you again. We're brothers, always, me and you against the world."

"And fuck anyone who tries to tear us apart," Sam finished, swallowing against the lump in his throat and blinking away the sting from his eyes. "What about Dad?"

"What about him?" Dean asked. "I didn't tell him about you showing up in my dream, if that's what you're asking, and I'm not going to let him being an ass about you going to college keep me from looking out for you when you need me."

"Promise?" Sam asked. Dean's expression went slightly soft around the edges, and he tugged Sam into a hug.

"Promise, baby boy," he said roughly before pulling back. "Now go talk to your other soulmates, bitch. You can call me first thing in the morning."

"On what number, jerk?" Sam fired back with a slightly wet laugh. It had been almost nine months, and Dean hadn't responded when he'd tried to call on his brother's birthday and gotten his voicemail.

"Same number you had for me when you left," Dean told him, then scowled darkly. "And I'm not with Dad right now so he can't go through my phone and delete any messages you leave me again." Seeing Sam open his mouth to ask, he held up a hand. "Later. Go talk to them. I ain't goin' anywhere."

"Yeah, okay," Sam said reluctantly. "You better not." With a last hesitation, he turned to walk across the church and meet Jimmy and Castiel properly.


	3. So Then I Took My Turn

**J** IMMY LOOKED UP with a hesitant smile as Sam approached and slid onto the seat beside him. His eyes lingered with concern on the wet streaks on Sam's cheeks, so he mustered up a reassuring smile for the older man. It must have done the trick, because Jimmy relaxed a little and quirked an eyebrow in question.

"It's just a relief," Sam tried to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dean's been my one constant all my life and I was afraid I'd never see him again after Dad kicked me out. Dad's word was always law, so when he said if I left for college then I couldn't ever come back..."

"You thought your brother would cut you out the way your father did," Jimmy finished. "Are you okay, though? It's only May and you just turned eighteen..."

"Oh, uh... I graduated high school a year early," Sam admitted sheepishly. "Started at Stanford last year for the fall semester, full ride." He smiled a little bitterly. "Same night as the fight with Dad, I hopped a bus to California." Most parents would have been proud. All John had seen was Sam betraying his family.

"Well for what it's worth,  _ I'm  _ proud of you, Sam," Jimmy told him firmly, bringing one arm up to wrap around Sam's shoulders. Sam made himself stay still and relaxed as Jimmy continued, "I knew you were intelligent as a kid, but wow! Graduating early and getting into Stanford are plenty impressive already, but a full ride? Clearly my soulmate grew up to be a genius! Way to go!"

_ "I, too, wish to offer congratulations, Sam,"  _ Castiel intoned, one huge wing shifting to extend until it curved around the two seated humans closely enough that Sam could almost make out what might have been individual feathers if the wings had been physical constructs instead of folded layers of shimmering colors and light.  _ "There is no fault or shame in wishing to seek knowledge, and your father was wrong to cast you out as he did. As well, I am pleased that the bond you share with your brother is strong enough to withstand the separation that was forced upon you both." _

"Thanks, Jimmy, Castiel," Sam managed around the lump in his throat, looking up at them with a shy, slightly watery smile. "That... really means a lot to me." The arm around his shoulders squeezed gently and Sam felt a strange tickle of static brush across the top of his head, ruffling his hair very slightly. He looked up in time to catch sight of the retreating edge of one colorful wing. "You're really an angel, huh?"

The question slipped out without his meaning, and he bit his lip. For years he'd believed in angels after Pastor Jim had introduced him to the concept, and when he'd learned the truth about his father's job hunting supernatural monsters he clung to the idea that there had to be some cosmically supernatural force of good to balance the evil. John had scoffed and smacked him over the head the one time he'd mentioned it in his Dad's hearing, saying that angels didn't exist, and if they did then they obviously weren't forces of good or they'd "get up off their heavenly asses and do something about all these fucking demons". Even Dean usually took the track that angels didn't exist, but he'd still made the bet with Sam for twenty bucks and a no questions asked favor if Sam could ever find proof.

Castiel was looking like pretty definite proof, though. Crouched beside them next to the pew, it was even more obvious just how massive the angel was, and Sam got the impression that Castiel had compressed himself down in size to fit within the dreamspace confines of the church. While they seemed to have two arms and two legs, the legs were oddly shaped, more like those of a large cat or canine, and the arms were longer than a human's in relation to their torso. Sam could even catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a  _ tail _ extending behind the angel up the steps to curve around behind the altar, and the wings defied all concepts of physics and biological expectation. The softly swirling blue orbs that must be the angel's eyes were bright, and Sam didn't think he was imagining the impression of gentle amusement.

_ "I really am," _ Castiel confirmed with another of those dipping nods.  _ "I was surprised that you both could perceive my true form, as most humans would have their eyes burned from their head." _

"Well, you're glowing really bright," Jimmy pointed out, then added hastily, "Not that that's a bad thing, just, even if you didn't burn out people's eyes it's not exactly discreet, you know?"

_ "I am aware," _ Castiel intoned, and the wings drooped again, blue orbs dimming slightly.  _ "Our forms are not physical in the sense that you are familiar. To move among humans discretely we must take a willing human vessel. As well, the Archangels have decreed in recent centuries that no angel may descend to Earth except in the most dire of emergencies, which is why I was so out of practice speaking." _ The head lifted, and the orbs shifted so that Sam got the impression that Castiel was looking directly at him and Jimmy simultaneously.  _ "Soul bonds are a gift from our Father, however, and so they cannot and will not prevent me from coming to you in your dreams, as I have done thus far." _

"I figured you were there when Jimmy had his dream," Sam admitted wryly, then frowned thoughtfully, something niggling at the back of his mind. "I don't... were you there when Dean had his dream? We're not supposed to remember anyone's soulmate dream but our own, except there's something...."

_ "As an angel, I am not limited to appearing in only my soulmates' dreams nor in remembering them, though only my soulmates would be able to perceive my presence," _ Castiel confirmed.  _ "I was there when Dean dreamed of you, though he did not see me, as I was there when...." _ The massive head tilted to one side slightly.  _ "You should tell Sam about Amelia now, Jimmy." _

"Amelia?" Sam asked, curious. Jimmy winced slightly.

"My wife," he admitted. "My parents are strict traditional Catholics and I had ten years to wait for you to have your dream, so I was stalling over correcting their assumption that you were a girl. Then three years later Amelia approached me in church and said your name." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a one-sided bond. I'm her soulmate, but she's not mine. She was very upfront about having done research into soul bonds and the different types, that she knew about you and respected our bond, and somehow also knew that my parents expected me to marry a woman, so..."

"So she offered to be the woman you married while you waited for me," Sam guessed, looking down at where Jimmy's left hand rested in his lap. Sure enough, there was a slim gold band on his ring finger. "You're happy?"

"Content, I guess," Jimmy said, shrugging. "She's not the love of my life, but we knew that going into it. 'Best friends until death do us part' is how she put it." he looked up at Sam then and his expression turned uncertain. "Are you mad? That I didn't wait?"

Sam had no idea what his face must look like, but that was an easy question to answer. "No, of course not. I was, what, eight years old? It would be stupid to expect you to just put your life on hold for ten years, and you're her soulmate, too. I just..." he trailed off and shrugged a little uncomfortably. "You've got a wife... a family... I don't really see where I'd fit in there."

"As my daughter's godfather, if nothing else," Jimmy said promptly. Sam looked up, shocked, and Jimmy smiled wryly. "There's a medical procedure, artificial insemination, that let Amelia have a child with me without us having to actually ever have sex. She insisted that if she got to give birth to my child, then you got to be godfather, no arguments."

"Wow," Sam said, mostly for lack of anything else to say. He'd expected grudging tolerance from his soulmate's wife at best, but this... "What's her name?"

"Claire Samantha Novak," Jimmy answered, then grinned at the gobsmacked look on Sam's face. "You were eight when we met in my dream. All I knew about you was that your name was Sam, your father was a paranoid nomad with a gun, and your older brother Dean was the one I'd need you to protect me from!"

"Dean won't do anything to hurt you," Sam denied with a laugh. "Well, unless you break my heart. Then he can have whatever's left."

"Then you'd better call me tomorrow so I can get on not breaking your heart," Jimmy said seriously. Sam's breath caught a little as Jimmy reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of his face, smiling softly. "Whatever might or might not happen between us, Sam, I do want to be a part of your life, and Amelia and I both want you to be a part of Claire's life."

"I... okay," Sam agreed, nodding hesitantly. "I... tomorrow's a Wednesday. What... what time should I call?" He laughed again, weakly. "I don't even know where you are."

"Pontiac, Illinois," Jimmy answered. He rattled off a telephone number, then repeated it more slowly so Sam could commit it to memory. "I get off work at five and it's a half-hour commute in good traffic, but I'm usually always home by six." Sam did the math and realized that put him calling at four in the afternoon in California.

"Okay," he said again, then glanced up at Castiel, feeling a little guilty for having practically ignored the angel during the last several minutes. "Uh... how do I get into contact with you?"

_ "Pray to me," _ the angel answered, the glow in those blue orbs brightening.  _ "I have always heard your prayers, and if you direct them to me then none may overhear them but my Father. If you wish to converse with me, then I will come to your dreams." _ Those massive wings shifted, fanning open briefly, almost like a human shrug.  _ "Those dreams, you will always remember." _

"I hope so," Sam whispered. "I promise to call you... both of you."

"We'll be waiting," Jimmy assured him softly.


	4. You Know I Love You So

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long this took me. First they didn't want to talk, then they talked too much.

**B** RADY'S ALARM CLOCK beeping stridently on the table between their beds pulled Sam from sleep. He very nearly shot the thing, but his gun was taped to the bottom of the bed frame out of sight instead of under his pillow. Brady himself appeared to have not returned to the room last night, so Sam grudgingly dragged himself out of bed and turned the thing to silent before scrubbing both hands over his face to try and wake up a bit more.

The first thing he did was grab his phone and carefully type in the number Jimmy had given him, saving it to his contacts under "Novak". The second thing he did was set an alarm on his phone for three forty-five to remind him to call Jimmy at four. The third thing he did was scroll through his contacts until he came to the last number he had for Dean. There he hesitated, doubt tugging at him. He remembered Dean saying something about Dad going through his phone. Had that been why he'd never returned Sam's calls, even on his birthday? Biting his lower lip, his finger hovered over the buttons before slowly pressing the green call button.

The call picked up on the second ring. "'Lo?" Dean's voice called through the phone. Sam's hand clenched tight around the phone, his chest aching from lack of air. "Sammy, that had better be you callin'!"

"Yeah," he choked out, then cleared his throat and unsteadily made himself start breathing again. "Yeah, Dean... it's me." There was a moment of silence from the other end of the phone while Sam's gut swooped and clenched around nothing. "...Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here," Dean answered, exhaling heavily into the phone. "Happy birthday, little brother."

"Seriously?" Sam asked, incredulous. "Nine months of radio silence from you followed by your  _ dream self  _ telling me to call you on the number you never answered, and you lead with 'happy birthday'?"

"It  _ is  _ your birthday," Dean pointed out. "I figured everything else we gotta talk about can wait until you get your ass down to the car, but if you're gonna be a little bitch about it..."

"Jerk," Sam grumbled automatically before his brain caught up with his ears and the words he was hearing registered. "I... 'down to the car'?"

"If your dorm window was facing the parking lot you'da seen me by now," came the drawling answer, and Sam took two stumbling steps towards the window before he remembered that his dorm faced the quad. "You tried to look out the window, didn't you?"

"Shut up," Sam snapped back, then shook his head. "Wait, don't shut up, I mean, just let me--" Dean's raspy laughter broke through his frantic stammering and he stopped and took a deep breath. "Stay there, I'll be right down."

"I ain't goin' anywhere," Dean said fondly, sounding exactly the way he had in the dream that Sam couldn't help but laugh a little wetly.

"You better not," he said through the grin that wouldn't leave his face. Dean was here. Dean was  _ here! _

He tripped over his duffle in his hurry to get dressed.

Seven minutes and some creative navigation of the dorm's stairwells, Sam practically flew out the doors on the side of the building facing the parking lot, already scanning for a familiar black shape. He still spotted Dean before he spotted the Impala, leaning up against the car's hood in jeans and shirtsleeves, the leather jacket absent in the California heat, eyes squinting from the morning sunlight, and holding what looked more and more like two venti Starbucks cups the closer Sam got to him.

"Christo," he said once he was within earshot. Dean rolled his eyes, but smirked and held out one of the cups for him to take.

"I stole the cups and made you cheap motel coffee with holy water," he deadpanned just as Sam brought the cup up to his mouth. It made him hesitate, which made Dean grin, and then Sam was carefully sipping what turned out to be  _ actual _ expensive dark roast coffee with cream and caramel and... Sam took a longer drink, rolling the mouthful around for a moment. Sure enough, Dean had added cinnamon to it, too. His brother had made fun of him for twenty minutes the first time he'd ordered coffee like this, but he'd still remembered it and brought him a cup for his eighteenth birthday.

"So... talking?" he prompted when they had both just stood there drinking their coffee for several minutes. Dean, in the middle of a swallow, nodded his head. "You sure you're not possessed, dude?"

"Not sure what I said last night, but  _ I _ remember making you a promise," Dean said with a half-shrug. "Biggest chick-flick moment you can handle talking about everything you think we need to." He hesitated, then tossed something at Sam. He barely caught it in time, and then nearly dropped it again when he recognized the keys to the Impala. Dean's expression was guarded and awkward when he looked up. "What? You've been here for nine months, you probably know better than I do where to take us so we won't be interrupted. Oh, come on, Sammy, I ain't a fucking shapeshifter, either!"

Dean was still grumbling about having a new scar for the collection when Sam pulled the Impala off the main highway and headed up towards the overlook he'd found a couple months back. The path up to it was just barely wide enough for the Impala to navigate, but they made it and Sam gave the dashboard a surreptitious pat for being such a good sport, and pretended not to see the knowing smirk Dean sent him for treating the car like a sentient being. He didn't call Sam on it, though, and Sam didn't try to make excuses, and the silence descended and settled around them like a comfortable blanket.

"So... soulmates," Sam said eventually, when Dean seemed perfectly content to keep on not talking. Like he was waiting for Sam to figure out what he wanted to ask.

"Yep," Dean agreed, popping the "p".

"You couldn't have said something four years ago?" Sam asked, wincing at the sharp edge to his tone. Dean just shrugged.

"Could've," he admitted. "Didn't wanna make things weird, and it doesn't really change anything."

"Wha-- Of course it changes things, Dean!" Sam protested, halfway turning to look at his brother. "We're  _ soulmates! _ If I'd known, I would've--"

"What? Stayed? Not gotten the hell out from under Dad's iron fist and gone to college like the genius you are?" Dean interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, see that's why I didn't say anything. You want more than hunting for your life, and I want you to get what you want." He glanced away then, the tips of his ears turning a little pink as he added, "And I didn't want you feeling trapped and resenting me if you had stayed because of our bond. That..." He grimaced. "Honestly, that probably would'a killed me worse than you leaving."

"I never meant to leave  _ you _ , Dean," Sam protested desperately, but Dean shook his head quickly.

"I know that," he said in a way that made Sam hear "I know that  _ now _ ". He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I... Dad watched me like a hawk those first couple of months you were gone. Think he thought I was going to go tearing off after you if he didn't keep me busy with hunting. When February hit and there wasn't any kind of message from you--"

"I called, I swear, Dean, I left a voicemail--"

"--and Dad wouldn't look me in the eye, I got suspicious and checked the call logs," Dean continued over Sam's interruption. Sam blinked and fell silent, mouth working uncertainly. Dean grimaced. "Dad apparently knew enough about my phone to get in and delete voicemails and text messages, but he didn't think to delete the call logs and there was this unfamiliar number placing incoming calls I hadn't received."

"Are you gonna get angry at me for being pissed at Dad over this?" Sam asked cautiously. Dean shot him a look that was halfway between pained and furious.

"I'm already pissed off at him," his brother growled. "He had no right to try and keep me away from you if you needed me!" Sam flinched at the shout and Dean flinched, too, then took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "After I figured out what he'd done, I went to Bobby's. Got him to tell Dad I messed up my leg on a werewolf hunt so I had an excuse to hide out and rage until I figured I could look him in the eye without wanting to punch him."

"How's that working for you?" Sam asked, morbidly curious. He'd never thought he'd see the day that Dean not only defied Dad but was seriously pissed enough to stay out of contact. Dean snorted.

"Still haven't gone looking for him," he admitted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Wanted to check on you first, make sure you were okay before we decided what to do about what he did."

"You think you can work with him again anytime soon?" Sam asked, biting his lower lip. "Don't get me wrong, Dean, you're a fantastic hunter, but some jobs really need a partner and if I'm not out there with you..."

"Dunno," he said pensively. "Maybe in another couple'a weeks. Pretty sure I would'a told him to go fuck himself with a sawed off shotgun if you'd still been too pissed at me for not answering to call today."

"I wasn't pissed at you," Sam denied. At Dean's sceptical look, he added, "No, really. Hurt, yes, and kinda depressed, like, a lot, but not..." It was his turn to blow out a long breath as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "You were never the one who told me that if I left I couldn't ever come back," he said slowly. "If you'd gone for longer than a year without any contact, yeah, I probably would have gotten around to being pissed at you for cutting me out of your life, but I would've forgiven you eventually." He bent his right leg and nudged his knee up against Dean's thigh, lightly teasing. "Probably would've forgiven you even if you weren't one of my soulmates."

"'One of', huh?" Dean quirked an eyebrow. "So you got more than me, huh? She hot?"

"Uh," Sam coughed awkwardly. "Both of them are very beautiful people," he said. The gobsmacked look Dean shot him was pretty close to the one Sam had seen in the dream, and it made him grin a little. "I've apparently got two other mutual soulmates who are also mutually bonded to each other."

"Two?" Dean blinked, then blinked again. "That sounds complicated. So you've got a, what's it called? A triad?"

"It's... even more complicated than that," Sam admitted. He explained carefully about Jimmy, his wife Amelia, and their daughter Claire, ending with, "And I'm supposed to call them around four PM so they can finish filling out the paperwork naming me Claire's godfather."

"And that's okay with you?" Dean asked, frowning. Sam shrugged.

"I was eight when he had his dream, Dean," Sam pointed out. "Apparently I thought then the same way I think now that he shouldn't have to put his life on hold for ten years just because I was too young for him to come find, even if I'd thought Dad wouldn't have shot him on sight."

"Okay, I get that," Dean agreed uncertainly. "But you both have another mutual soulmate. What about her? Or him, I guess?"

"That's even more complicated than Jimmy being married," Sam sighed, leaning back in the seat. "For starters, I didn't even think to ask about gender pronouns because there weren't any obvious physical clues that I could see." Actually, Castiel had appeared to be physically sexless, insomuch as a glowing figure made of celestial light could be physical. "But Dean? You owe me twenty bucks and a to-be-determined no-questions-asked favor, because our other soulmate is an angel."

"Bullshit."


	5. I Drew A Line For You

**E** XPLAINING ABOUT ANGELS to his brother was not something Sam had been given a lot of time to wrap his head around, never mind that he'd only consciously known and remembered for a fact that angels existed for a matter of a couple of hours. Dean was understandably skeptical, but at least willing to concede that Sam's description was definitely supernatural and nothing like anything either of them had ever seen or heard of. The revelation that angels had been ordered to stay off Earth unless, presumably, the world was ending was greeted with a huff of "Fucking figures."

At least they both agreed that John Winchester didn't need to know anything about either of Sam's other soul bonds. Dean admitted freely that, as angry as he was with the man, he couldn't guarantee that the first wrong word out of John's mouth about Sam wouldn't have Dean spilling the beans about their own bond. Jimmy, however, was none of John's business and the less said to the paranoid older hunter about Castiel the better.

"Bastard would probably try and hunt him," Dean said with a shifty look that Sam knew meant his brother had considered doing the same thing. As adamant as their Dad was about killing anything not one hundred percent human, Sam suspected he would shoot first and ask questions only if nothing he tried worked, and Sam felt a surge of gratitude towards his brother for being willing to give Sam's non-human soulmate the benefit of the doubt.

Sam made a mental note to check in with Castiel to make sure there wasn't a way to kill an angel that John could get his hands on, just in case.

True to Dean's word, they ended up talking for hours, sometimes rehashing old arguments that had never felt settled, sometimes confessing to secrets that they'd hidden but felt guilty for hiding. Dean recounted the entirety of his dream to Sam, and Sam told Dean everything about his own dream, including the relief he felt over not being cut out of Dean's life which made Dean growl and snarl, "Seriously, fuck Dad if he ever tries this shit again!" Sam made Dean hug him until his older brother calmed down enough to listen when he said hoarsely next to Dean's ear that it didn't matter what Dad said or tried to do, because Sam knew Dean didn't hate him for leaving and Dean knew that Sam wasn't leaving  _ him _ just because he left hunting temporarily for college.

"Temporarily?"

"Well, Stanford's got a great pre-law program, and as often as you and Dad get in trouble with the cops it couldn't hurt to have a lawyer on call to help talk you out of trouble." Sam shrugged awkwardly. "And anyway, you don't want to quit hunting, right? So once I get my degree, maybe after law school if I get in, I figure I'll be back on the road with you. And, uh, maybe swing through Illinois once or twice a month."

"Illinois, huh? Well, I guess that ain't too far from South Dakota."

It was, as promised, the biggest chick flick moment that Sam could handle, and more hugs than Dean was usually willing to put up with, until both of their stomachs decided to remind them that it was getting on towards noon, and Sam at least hadn't had more for breakfast that the long-gone coffee. Dean suggested lunch, and Sam insisted they detour back to the dorms to get his student ID (because discount food was never a bad thing) and his laptop (because if Dean was going to hang out in Palo Alto being the supportive big brother for even as little time as the rest of the day, the least Sam could do as an equally supportive little brother was try and find him a hunt in the area).

Dean waited in the car again while Sam dashed inside and back up the stairs. The door to his dorm room was still locked and there was no sock on the handle, so either Brady still hadn't returned or he'd come and gone. Sam frowned, concerned, but shrugged it off and unlocked the door.

The stench of sulphur in the air hit him like a wave and he gagged, reaching automatically for a weapon he wasn't carrying as he covered his nose and his eyes scanned the room. Moments later, his phone was out and he was dialing Dean.

"What's taking so long, bitch?" Dean greeted him.

"Dean," Sam started, strained, then shook himself and started over. "You need to get up here."

"I'll be right there," Dean said, hanging up before Sam could think to tell him the room number even though he was pretty sure Dean already knew. He didn't move from the doorway until Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on, Sammy?"

"Sulphur," Sam said mechanically. "And--" His voice cracked and he shut his mouth, pointing into the room at the wall over his bed and the thick, red-brown letters arranged unevenly across the off-white plaster.

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAMMY**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And it was all Yellow..._


End file.
